


You have always, and will always be, the only star I need

by holmesiironman



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, OTP Feels, little angsty because i am in pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:45:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmesiironman/pseuds/holmesiironman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin knew how to find the missing angle in a triangle using the Sine Rule. She could tell you the equations of aerobic and anaerobic respiration. She could even list the morals in the novel, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. What Clarke couldn’t do, however, was figure out what to do when you accidently fall in love with your best friend.</p><p>OR</p><p>Clarke and Bellamy have been best friends since forever, and only when he might be moving away to go to college does Clarke realise that she needs him more than she thought</p>
            </blockquote>





	You have always, and will always be, the only star I need

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks once again to the_sky_is_forever for putting up with my trash  
> Hope you enjoy this one it's hopefully a little different idk  
> Kinda based off Love, Rosie bc I love that film and ommggg Sam Claflin   
> Anyways, let me know whatcha think  
> Happy Reading :)

Chapter 1

Clarke Griffin knew how to find the missing angle in a triangle using the Sine Rule. She could tell you the equations of aerobic and anaerobic respiration. She could even list the morals in the novel, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. What Clarke couldn’t do, however, was figure out what to do when you accidently fall in love with your best friend.

Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake had known each other since, well… forever. There wasn’t a memory she had where he wasn’t present. They’d shared baths as babies, swapped snacks in 3rd grade, been on a family holiday together to Egypt in middle school, consoled each other over crappy relationships in high school, studied together for every exam and, as of seven hours ago, had even helped each other fill out their collage applications. For as long as Clarke could remember, Bellamy had been around: always dependable, always charming, and always understanding. Living only next door, their bedroom windows facing each other, he was never too far away – whenever she needed him, he was there – and now suddenly, for the first time in her whole 18 years, he wouldn’t be.

Abby Griffin and Aurora Blake had been best friends for 20 years. When Mr and Mrs Blake had moved in next door all those years ago, the Griffins had eagerly invited them over, anxious to make them feel welcome to the neighbourhood. Both the men and the women had hit it off straight away, thus forming a life-long friendship. They’d have a joint date night every Friday, alternating between their houses. Monthly congregations in the Blake’s basement to watch the game was tradition. As was the back-to-back F.R.I.E.N.D.S marathons in the Griffin Household. When Abby had discovered she was two months pregnant, the first person she told wasn’t her husband Jake, but her best friend Aurora, who then revealed that she was almost four months pregnant. When Aurora went into labour, Abby was the doctor on call, despite being seven months pregnant herself. After Abby and Jake, Aurora and her husband had been the first people to hold Clarke after she was born. Four years later, when Mr Blake had died suddenly in a car accident, Abby was the one to break the news to Aurora, whilst Jake took care of Clarke, Bellamy, and Octavia, all too young to understand why their mothers were crying.

Now, fourteen years later, Clarke was perched upon the roof above her window, staring blankly at the empty roof opposite her, wondering at what point her life became so difficult. This had always been the place where she and Bellamy would talk for hours; about school, about his dad, about her boyfriends, but mostly about their shared concern for Octavia. Countless nights they had thrown a tennis ball from roof to roof, swapping dreams and ambitions. A couple of years back, Clarke remembers telling him about how she wanted to travel around the world and paint the sun as it sets in every continent. In turn, he had told her about his dream to become a professor and be responsible for helping people become something greater. Her vision blurred with tears as she realised that in a few months, everything would be different and all those memories between them would be nothing more than just that: memories.

Burying her nose further into the neck of her hoody (it was actually Bellamy’s hoody which she’d stolen from him two years ago), Clarke sighed heavily and tilted her head up to look at the stars.  _Fuck!_  she thought when the sight only made her chest tighten further, her throat burning with the effort not to cry as she recalled every time Bellamy called her out from the warmth of her bed at 3am and taught her about the stars. They’d sit with his head in her lap, her fingers through his hair as she consoled him wordlessly, in the way only the two of them could do, until he’d point to a cluster of lights in the vast, almost black sky and tell her everything he knew. Which was a lot. It had started around 8th grade, when Bellamy had become obsessed with space, remembering facts about the planets and even committing whole constellations to memory. Few people knew the reason for his dedication to astronomy, Clarke being one of them. She knew it was because when he had asked his mother where his father was, she had replied with “he is with the stars”. Thus began with his obsession. When Clarke was the one in need of comforting, their positions would reverse, with his calloused thumbs drawing circles on her forehead, her face buried into the fabric of his shirt as they basked in the silence of the night.

Crossing her legs beneath her, wiggling her toes through a hole in her ankle socks, Clarke absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of his hoody. Drowning in her nostalgia and self-pity, she takes a brief moment to decide whether she should ‘man-up’, go back inside, and forget that the day ever happened. One more look at the abandoned and slightly creepy roof across from her, she shook off the feeling, allowing herself to become submersed in memories once more.

It’s odd how you can wake up, on a day like any other, and be completely oblivious to the way your life is going to be affected in the time from when your head leaves the pillow to when it joins it once again. Clarke had often thought about whether she would do anything differently than she usually would, had she been informed of what was going to happen hours before it happened. Now Clarke wished that she’d had the power to know such things before she even made the decision to get out of bed. Sat on the roof, her pale skin erupting into goose-bumps at the late spring breeze, she pondered how different her day would have been if she’d known that morning, as she danced around her room to  _Hooked on a Feeling_ , what was going to happen that day.

“I definitely would’ve stayed in bed,” she mumbled into the night, before shuffling to the edge of the roof and shimming down the drain-pipe until she was balancing precariously on her window ledge. Then, with expert precision that could only come from years of practice, she swung through the open window feet first, landing with a soft thud. Turning to shut the window and the blinds, she almost jumped out of her skin when she saw a face in the window opposite hers, staring back at her with disdain. The beautiful blonde with prefect eyebrows and a fake smile gave her a wink, before shutting Bellamy’s blinds. Clarke was left stood in her dimly lit room, feeling self-conscious. Her hair was in a messy bun, she had paint on her face and scattered across her arms and was dressed only in his large Yankee’s hoody and a pair of black shorts that weren’t even visible. Compared to the blonde in her lacy black bra and matching panties, it was no wonder Bellamy had picked her over Clarke. Shaking her head of such thoughts, she snapped her mouth (which had been hanging open) shut. Her eyes remained wide as she continued to stare into the shuttered off window in front of her, in a state of absolute disbelief. The pain in her heart, which had been gradually increasing throughout the day, flared until it consumed her. She felt nothing and everything simultaneously.

With a sudden burst of anger, she came to life, ripping off his hoody and slamming it in the waste basket under her desk with a growl. Marching over to her bed, she pulled back the covers, only to look up onto the wall behind her headboard, which was littered with her drawings (of Bellamy) and song lyrics (put there by Bellamy) and constellations (Bellamy) and quotes which she had put up (in the presence of Bellamy). Worst were the pictures. Clarke and Octavia. Clarke and her parents. Clarke and her father. Them all together. Aurora and Clarke. Clarke and Bellamy. Clarke and Bellamy. Clarke and Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy.

Groaning, Clarke flopped down onto her mattress, face pressed into her pillow. She lay there for a while, limbs heavy with exhaustion until her breathing evened out. When she woke later in the night, she realised she must’ve fallen asleep because when she came back around, her comforter had been pulled up over her bare back, probably by her dad. Mind bleary with sleep, she recognised the cause of her disturbance to be the sound of her phone vibrating on her bed side table. Sticking out a hand, keeping her head buried in the pillow, she fumbled around, knocking off her book and bottle of water until her hand found the device.

Turning her head slightly, she squinted against the blare of the screen to read the notifications.

**_Message from Raven Reyes- YOU NEED TO TALK TO HIM CLARKE_ **

**_Message from Monty Green- Heyyyyyyy where did you goooooooo????xoxo_ **

**_Message from Octavia Blake- Did you leave the party with Bellamy? I haven’t seen him??x x x x_ **

**_Message from Jake Griffin- What’s with all the stomping around pumpkin?_ **

**_Message from Octavia Blake- I found him… in bed… WITH HARPER… eeww :( call meeee x x x x_ **

Each message made the lump in her throat more prominent. The latest message however, was what sent her stomach into a frenzy and had her heart breaking all over again.

**_Message from Bellamy Blake- Princess, I was told u left the party without me! :O I know it’s late but, just checking u got back safely. Thx for helping me with my Harvard application and for introducing me to Harper (she’s quite the screamer ;))… Haha, you’re the bestest friend a guy could ask for! LY Princess xoxo_ **

Note to self: NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR BEAUTIFUL, SMART AND COMPLETELY UNAWARE BEST FRIEND EVER

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Turning his head, Bellamy took a sweeping look at the exposed tanned skin of the girl sleeping next to him, smiling slightly as he thought about the devilish things they’d done in the last hour. She’d fallen asleep quickly, giving him time to think the day over, alone for the first time since he’d woken up that morning.

He could go to Harvard! It’s what he’d always dreamed of, but had never thought it would be a reality. Every dime he earned went towards rent or Octavia, there was no room for anything else. Now, however, he had a chance at a scholarship!

Grinning to himself in his moonlit bedroom, he pictured himself in Boston, a frat boy, studying Astronomy and earning a living that would give Octavia and his mother all they had ever wanted. Also, after tonight, it became obvious to Bellamy that he would have no problem getting girls.

His smile faded and he turned his gaze away from Harper and stole a glance at his phone which lay on the bedside table next to him. Resisting the urge to check it, he tried to convince himself that if she had replied then his screen would be on, showing him a picture of him giving her a piggy-back ride. He knew that picture inside out. The way her hair was blowing slightly to the left with the wind, how young she looked when she was laughing (as they both were) despite the picture being taken only last year. He could still remember the smooth feel of her thighs against his waist when she wrapped her legs around his shirtless torso, squealing as he spun her around. Ever in his mind was the sensation of her boobs pressing against his back through her thin tank top. It had taken all he had to focus on not dropping her. To this day, his knees still went weak at the memory of her laugh, silky like a lullaby in his ear. Her soft breaths against the skin of his neck giving him goosebumps, the way she had pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head after the picture was taken, before unwrapping her legs and dropping softly to the floor. He had never stopped missing her touch.

The problem was, he didn’t want any girl. He’d thought, in his naivety, that if he slept with other girls then he’d forget about her laugh, her pale skin, the softness of her lips. She couldn’t love him after all. He was just Bellamy to her. But that didn’t change the way he felt about her.

Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes, wanting to shut off his mind for a couple hours. The problem was, he didn’t want any girl.

He wanted Clarke Griffin.

 


End file.
